Daily Kennebec journal. [microfilm reel] (Augusta, Me.) 1870-1975, 1887-01-11
CHAPTER II.

CHAPTER II.
HOW SHE FOUND HER WAY TO TIE MILL
IL the windmill on the clay land
worked Joe Western, white with flour,
white faced, white handed, and with his
hair more fully powdered than any foot
man at the hall.
He did not, of course, live in the mill;
he lived in low brick house, one story
high, rooted with tiles, bowshot off the
mill. On the red roof, turned to a warm
brown by age, grew patches of stonecrop
of a golden yellow. The cottage had
q bit of garden round it, sur
rounded by ditch fringed with
willows The garden formed an OBJ
long patch, apparently taken out from
a field This was, however, not the case.
The garden and house of the miller were
older by at least i, hundred years than
the field which had been inclosed within
the memory of man from what had been
common Long before the oldest man
could remember, or before the oldest man
could tell of having heard by older men
before hirl, there had been windmill on
Ring moo, and the miller's cottage had
stood where it stands still. Ring moor
WAS moor no more-it was all inclosed,
and cultivated, and drained.
In the cottage Joe Western lived with
his mother His father was dead. lie
had fallen one day, when drunk, from
the steps that led up into the mill, and
had broken, as folk said, every bone in
his body. This was an eIaggeration He
had broken two or three, but one was
enough to settle him-his skull, which
struck stone.
When old Miller Western died Joe was
10 years old Weighty responsible
tiles rested on him. He had his mother to
maintain, his own future to determine.
He was advised by all his fathers friends
to throw up the mill, as beyond the bust
ness powers Of beardless boy. How
could lad without hair on his chin
with only down on his upper lip-conduct
a mill? Joe was a silent fellow, very
self contained and reserved. He listened
to advice, and did not combat the reason
ing Of his advisers. What could he say?
Nothing but time could grow the neces-
sary hair on his face which would capaci-
tate him, in public estimation, for carry
ing on the mill He had broad shoulders;
he put them under the burden without q
word, and pursued his own course He
kept on the mill
Joe had been brought up to the bust
ness, and he knew its ms and outs thor
oughly; when his father had been tipsy,
Joe had had to manage without him
Now he was dead, Joe would manage
without him.
Joe was so reserved, so cold, that the
neighbors could not make him out He
sowed no wild oats. He sowed nothing
but the sweat of his brow. The man who
had served his fathcr-a reserved fellow,
handy and obliging, but not very sober
left him.
1.-THE young cockerel is well enough"
said he, "but he don't crow. l can't get
on with chap who hasn't word to
say"
A case of conscen ce arose in the neigh
borhood. 1t was doubted whether it were
right to continue dealing with miller
without beard on his chin; but partly
from Incidence and dislike of change, and
partly because there was no other mill
near, the old customers did net fulfill
their threat of leaving and Joe Western
soon acquired fresh customers-he gave
good measure. His hand did not go into
the bag too often, or had not so big a
grasp as that of his father Moreover
he did not mix inferior grain with the
good sent him.
Mrs. Western was quiet old woman,
IL,
mixed with fear. Even she thought it
was strange, unnatural for one of Joe's
age to be so taciturn, so resolved, so I'M
sociable.
She shook her head and sighed to her
friends, ".Joc is good lad, good as gold
without vice of any sort in him. He'll
never marry, that's certain, and pity it
is. He would nowhere find a Young
woman serious enough to suit him
They're all giddy pates nowadays,
thinking of nothing but dress putting
all their wages on their backs
"That would never do for Joe, he is all
for saving They like chattering; he
hardly ever talks. They are all for
laughing and singing and dancing. 1
never hear him shout or laugh. he scarce
smiles, but goes as quietly at his work
like a machine. If were not his mother
l should find it dull here with him, and |
don't know what l should do without
the pigs and the poultry Did you ever
before see any one who never talked ex-
cept he'd got something to sayp My Joe
don't, and that would not content a
young woman
One day when fresh northwest breeze
was blowing, and the white clouds were
flying over the sky, the mill wings were
rushed off them in spouts of cold air.
Happening to 60 the mill door, Joe
was surprised and startled to see little
figure of girl turn out of the road. and
come over the short grass toward the
mill, with the eyes raised to the sails.
The child came on unconscious of dam
ger, unaware of the danger of approach
ing and coming within the sweep of those
mighty revolving wings
Joe called to warn the child Off; but
she either did not hear. or disregarded
the monition. Then, with frown and
| an exclamation of impatience, Joe ran
down the steps, strobe over the turf,
caught the child b. the arm, and roughly
swung it aside.
what are you about here?" he asked.
"1ou might have been killed.
The child was Triptolema Yellowleaf
Redfern
I'm doing no HARM" she said, I'M
dauntedly. I'm not going to eat the
mill"
1.-THE mill was nigh on grinding YOU"
She stared at him.
What a lovely child she was, with those
large dark eyes and that abundant fair
hair.
"You be off, and trespass here no
more" he said
Il want fly" she said; ~ am going
up on one Of those great wings. Stop
them for me to climb on to one.'
1t was now Joe's place to stand and
stare. The child's bright eyes were full